


You Shook Me

by candypinksocks



Category: Franklin & Bash
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-12
Updated: 2012-06-12
Packaged: 2017-11-07 13:49:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/431867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candypinksocks/pseuds/candypinksocks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter wakes up in eyeliner and Jared's in a skirt and there's a peacock called Douglas on the side table.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Shook Me

**Author's Note:**

> For the F&B Kink meme prompt - _Can we have Peter realizing that Jared wandering around looking like a naughty schoolgirl - short skirt, no panties, has clearly been fucked last night - is doing things to him, and goes with it. Either punishing 'her' for being slutty, or just taking advantage himself._

He doesn't look as he walks past, just goes straight for the fridge and the juice, talks to Pindy, but doesn't really tune in. He can do this with his eyes closed and his brain switched off. He should care about spoliation of evidence and that there was definitely _something_ going on with the cop he can't do anything about 'til the case is done. He should get the ice skater guy's number off his back before Jared bad sexts him, if he hasn't already. He should find a shower and some pants and see about being 'all corporate'.

Instead he keeps his head in the fridge, til he's got goose bumps on his arms and his teeth are chattering and tries to think about something other than Jared on the couch in a fucking _skirt_.

It's not helping.

And Jared's a sonofabitch for _wriggling_ his ass as he walks to the breakfast bar and being fucking Jared; just like Jared always is.

"You wearing eyeliner?"

"No. You wearing lipstick?"

"No."

They're both lying and they both know how it got there.

They don't rent the Candidate and they don't go to Vail.

*

"This is much less awesome without tequila, Peter." Jared tugs at the hem of the skirt, it doesn't make a difference, it's still too short and Peter can't look away from the little patch of dark hair just below Jared's navel.

Jared's got his shirt undone to the last four buttons and tied up above his navel, he looks uncomfortable and nervous, but the skirt's tented out in front and he's doing that thing with his lip and his teeth that Peter can't ever resist.

"I didn't make you wear the socks." He pops the button on his pants, shoves his shirt up as he slides down in his chair, legs falling wide, shoes scuffing the floor. 

"Not even gonna ask where you even got cheerleader socks from." Jared's turning on the spot, trying to look at his own ass and looking more like a puppy chasing it's own tail. "And this does it for you?" He sounds like he can't quite believe it, like Peter's pulling his chain or something. Peter's really not pulling his chain.

Peter rubs at the eyeliner he spent too long putting on, smudging it up under his lashes and over his lids and he doesn't even bother hiding his smile when Jared fucking _whimpers_.

"Seems we both have a little something, huh?" His shirt's up under his armpits now, one hand lazy over his belly, the other working on his fly, the zipper pulled down in a slow tease. "Now get your ass over here."

Jared kind of jumps at that, bare feet shuffling forward, hands restless; first crossed over his chest, then his belly to pluck at his shirt, ending up loose at his sides as he makes his way over to the chair and Peter - Peter's not even blinking as he looks up from Jared's knees to his face, the lipstick Jared took pains to put on, still perfect. He promises himself it's not going to stay that way for long.

“Where’d your underwear go last night hmm?” He traces his fingers up the inside of Jared’s legs, smiles when Jared pushes his feet apart, tilts his hips forward just a little. “You kick it under the couch after you got in that guy’s lap?” He’s got his fingers tangled in the hem of Jared’s skirt and tugging him closer. Close enough to topple him forward into Peter’s lap when his knees hit the edge of the chair.

“Was round my ankle, thought it was tucked in my boot – “ And Jared’s in his lap now, grinding down, his skirt fanned out and his hands in Peter’s hair. “Then I lost my boot –“ Jared shrugs and grins before he tugs at Peter’s hair, pulls his head back and brushes his lips over Peter’s jaw.

“Cheating – fuck –“ Jared bites down hard, right in the place Peter _really_ likes and his hips are off the chair and he’s got hold of Jared’s hips too hard.

“You wanted naughty, Peter –“ And that is _it_.

“And we had _rules_ Jared.” Even as he’s yanking Jared closer, fingertips hard enough to bruise in Jared’s hips as he bucks up again, sure he’s leaving zipper marks on Jared’s thighs, but holding on anyway. 

“Fuck the rules – fuck!” Peter bites back when Jared snags his bottom lip between his teeth, curses as Jared pulls on his hair hard enough to sting and he’s been waiting on this all fucking day and it’s finally here and he doesn’t know what he wants to do first, but he knows he wants it all.

It almost hurts to let go, takes just seconds to push his pants down over his hips, tipping Jared up high as he does. He bites at Jared’s nipple, gets his hand up Jared’s skirt to get a fist round his dick before he pulls him back down, wraps his fist round the both of them then as he breathes hard into Jared’s mouth, licks at his lips as he twists his wrist just _so_.

“Oh – oh _fuck_!” Jared’s got his feet hooked up under Peter’s thighs and his fingers digging into Peter’s chest, breath quick and hot as he sucks on Peter’s lip, rolls his hips forward, dirty and slow.

“So fucking – _Jesus_ \- “ And he had this whole thing, a whole _scene_ planned out in his head and Jared’s gone and fucked it all up and he can’t seem to find in himself to care. Except for one part. 

“Look at me.” His voice’s shot, barely more than a croaked out whisper into Jared’s mouth, but Jared drags himself away, like Peter knew he would, holds Peter’s look, his head tipped a little to the side and a question in his eyes. “Did you get him off? That guy – did he do you like this or did you get on your knees and suck him off?” He’s got his hands on Jared’s ass now, fingers riding the crease as he rocks up.

“Not.Fucking.Fair –“ Jared butts his forehead against Peter’s, pinches at the skin just under Peter’s ribs as he tips forward and back again, slow. Peter knows he’s close, can hear it, can feel it. 

“’M never fair Jared.” He smiles then, the one he knows drives Jared nuts with the smug. 

And then he smacks Jared’s ass. 

Jared’s nails dig painful crescents into his skin for a second and then he’s cussing and bucking almost in two, shaking and falling apart as he kisses Peter and Peter kisses him back with everything he’s got, fucking his tongue into Jared’s mouth as he chases after, freezing and falling and holding onto Jared like if he let go he might shatter into a million pieces.

The skirt’s ruined, the chair too, truth be told, Jared’s heavy and sweaty on top of him and Peter’s more than likely not going to be able to feel his legs for a week. Peter can think of worse ways to end the day.

“Kinky fucker.” Jared’s almost asleep on top of him, fingers tangled up in his hair and his mouth pressed to Peter’s collarbone.

“You love it.” He strokes up over Jared’s back, the shirt fluttering back to cover Jared’s ass.

“Maybe a little bit.” And Jared yawns.


End file.
